Dragon Rider, meet Dovahkiin
by Lord Death of Murder Mountain
Summary: Set after the main quest for skyrim and about a quarter of the way through Eldest. Alagaesia is about to receive aid. Aid in the form of a bipedal cat with the soul of a dragon and his really old and scaley friend. I almost pity the empire. Spoiler alert.


I get bored easy when I get writers block. I own not The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim or The Inheritance Cycle.

* * *

><p>The Dragonborn or Dovahkiin if you ask the right people, Regarded by many as the ultimate dragon slayer seen as a hero all over the land of Skyrim both for his aid in ending the civil war as well as his defeat of Alduin the World Eater a dragon so ancient and powerful not even the dead were safe from his power.<p>

The Dovahkiin was also said to be uniquely gifted in the use of The Voice the ability to concentrate ones essence in a Thu'um also called a Shout. Shouts can accomplish many things from launching an enemy's weapon from their hands to blasting a wall of pure concussive force.

Of course as it is a Nordic story and tradition many of Skyrim's people believed that as the story turned out to be true that the Dragonborn was a Nord. They were proven wrong. In fact the Dragonborn was none other than a member of one of the most discriminated against races in all of Tamriel. He was a Kahjiit, one not all that welcome even among some of his own kind.

The cat-like man was born with a pelt as black as ebony yet his father possessed one of the purest white with the characteristic black stripes of his family, while his mother had storm gray fur. This of course meant one of two things the first was that his mother had been unfaithful. But this idea was disregarded because at the time of his conception the caravan had been no were near any other people, as well as no-one in the caravan had fur anywhere near as dark as the newborn cub.

Thus in the minds of the more superstitious members of the caravan this left only one reason he had the fur he did. The child had been touched by a Deadra. This led to him being left with some of father and mother's friends, without of course being informed of his Deadric touch. They had left him with only his name, Vas'jah*, One who is touched, unknown to the imperials who took the child in his name would see him never welcomed among any caravan or any of his kind. The name itself is used to keep the "bad luck" associated those who have been touched away from the clans and caravans.

The irony is three days after they set off after leaving him all of them were killed by bandits. They would never learn of how right they were though.

And as he grew in the Imperial City so too did his skills.

He was taught the art of not slicing yourself into tiny pieces when holding two weapons by Talis Morten* one of the arena fighters. How not to break or burn your hand when at the forge by Malik Amiel* his surrogate father and local blacksmith. How to hunt, sneak and use a bow by the one he saw as an older brother Haderus Amiel*. And from the local beggars he learned to pick both locks and pockets.

It was with both these skills and a heavy heart that he set off from the Imperial City and Cyrodil all together to carve out a life in the cold land of Skyrim.

His new life didn't exactly get off to a good start. What with stepping over the border, being clubbed over the head, and waking up tied up in a cart on his way to be executed but that is a story for another time.

Vas'jah stood at the summit of the Throat of the World, the highest mountain in all of Tamriel, speaking with his mentor Paarthurnax the oldest dragon to currently live.

"Did you bring the scroll as I asked Dovahkiin?" The ancient dragon asked in his voice that as always seemed dipped and then wrapped in wisdom.

"Yes, I have the Elder Scroll. But why did you request I bring it here?" The Kahjiit asked in the cultured tones he had grown up amongst in the Imperial City.

"My answer is simple dovahkiin, there is much going on outside of Tamriel that you must be made aware of, that scroll is the only way I can think to accomplish this with any form of the haste we need." Paarthurnax stated turning his head to look Vas in the eye.

"When do we begin?" He asked.

"After I present you with a gift from master to apprentice. Remember how I had you collect Alduin's scales and bones? Under my orders the Graybeards had this armor fashioned, it is in the chest." The four legged lizard said gesturing to the chest next to the wall from which Vas had learned the Fire Breath Shout. That particular Shout he did not use if he could help it. He found it brought back unpleasant memories of the day the Dark Brotherhood burned.

For you see Vas was not the happy, good kitten he had been in Cyrodil the people of Skyrim's treatment of his kind had seen to that.

In Riften he had joined the Thieves' Guild, proving his usefulness and bringing gold in to the guild as well as reestablishing the guilds hold on Skyrim, and then Mercer tried to kill him. So with Karliah and Brynjolf as backup he delved into a dwarven ruin killed Mercer retrieved the skeleton key and stole the massive gems that were the Eyes of the Falmer all of that after swearing service to a Deadra, Nocturnal. As much as he would have liked to keep the key he knew neither of the others would like it so he put it back.

Afterwards he heard a rumor of a boy attempting to summon the Dark Brotherhood so he went to investigate, the boy the confused me for a member of the Dark Brotherhood. So because there wasn't much to do as Guild master of the Thieves' Guild he took the kid up on the contract. Long story short, he killed the lady got kidnapped, killed some other guy, did some contracts, got contracted to kill the emperor. Then he and the rest of the Brotherhood were betrayed by one of their own, Astrid the leader of the only remaining sanctuary in Tamriel, sold him out for the protection of the rest. She was then double crossed and most of the Brotherhood was killed, and the sanctuary burned to the point it was unlivable.

Vas approached the chest, his eyes widening as he opened it to reveal suit of armor unlike anything he'd seen before, the helmet, the cloak, even the claws. It all possessed an air of deadly elegance.

He donned the armor and turned toward Paarthurnax, ready to begin. "What is it I must learn?"

"You must learn of a land far from here. A land where dragons are a dying breed and an evil man has enslaved the minds of two of the remaining dragons. Through this scroll, and myself, you will learn all you can and then you will journey to this land and free it and the dragons." Paarthurnax said a passion Vas had never heard before had entered the old dragon's voice. "Are you ready to begin?"

Vas thought for a few seconds then nodded confidently. "Yes, let's begin."

"Good, Dovahkiin now you will learn of Alagaesia, it's dangers and it' wonders."

* * *

><p>Well another story though these series' are both firsts for me so tell me what you think.<p>

*about the names I just made all of them up I have no idea what or if Vas'jah means anything.

The armor is based off the dragonscale armor with some kind of face plate and a cloak.

I thought all of this up for my own amusment.


End file.
